


Secret Need

by opalescentheart



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-29 20:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10143107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalescentheart/pseuds/opalescentheart
Summary: They have a ritual. Victor gets to kill. And Oswald gets something in return.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Kris + Skyler for beta reading! <3

“You’ve betrayed me, Carl. How disappointing,” Oswald drawls, tongue clicking before he looks reproachfully at the man kneeling in front of him.

The man makes a muffled noise through the piece of cloth stuffed in his mouth, his eyes glassy and wide in panic. In one last attempt to inspire mercy he folds his hands, holding them up to Oswald.

Pursing his lips into a smug grin, Oswald just takes in the sight before him. His skin is buzzing as a thrill of power rushes through him.

He reaches out, placing a hand onto Carl’s head, stroking through the man’s fine hair almost tenderly. “Shhhh,” he says as Carl begins to sob. “You should’ve known better, Carl,” Oswald continues, voice soft.

“Goodbye.” With that, Oswald leans down and presses his lips against the man’s warm forehead.

He takes in the man’s smell: aftershave, with blood from the beating he’s received prior, and fear-induced sweat. Oswald’s eyelids flutter as he presses his mouth down more firmly, his blood hot as it pulses through him - all the way down to his cock.

He draws back eventually, petting Carl’s hair one more time before he turns around, skin flushed and with an obvious bulge visible in his pants.

“Go ahead, Victor,” he says, voice composed and sweet.

Zsasz, who had been quietly looming in the shadows, steps forward, dressed in all black, and with a gun in his hand. As he walks past Oswald, he smirks at the smaller man, something besides just bloodthirst flickering in his eyes.

Something Oswald knows he’ll be experiencing very soon.

The gunshot cracks through the air, immediately silencing Carl’s desperate sobs. Then, a thump as his body falls to the ground.

After shoving his gun back into the holster, Victor turns back around and pulls the sleeve of his shirt up, revealing pale skin with numerous scars.

A prickling shiver runs down Oswald’s spine. He licks his lips as he watches the other man pull a knife out. Blood is drawn as it pierces Victor’s skin, yet, not even the trace of an expression crosses his face.

Oswald presses his mouth into a thin line, heat twisting low in his belly. Not long now.

“I’m glad you didn’t invite an audience this time, chief,” Victor says, smoothing the folds on his shirt as he rolls the sleeve back over his arm. Finally, there’s the smirk Oswald’s been waiting for.

It’s like an invitation.

An invitation that Oswald is more than willing to take.

Victor eyes him like prey, his dark eyes full of hunger and unpredictability.

It’s a similar look to what men like Carl receive right before they meet their end at the end of Victor’s gun.

Of course, Oswald knows the outcome is markedly different when _he’s_ the one receiving that look.

“My, don’t you look pretty tonight,” Victor purrs, pushing Oswald against the wall with strong hands.

Oswald gasps a little at the forceful push. Exactly what he needs. He swallows, eyelids fluttering a little at the compliment.

“Thank you,” he breathes, glancing into Victor’s eyes before turning his head to the side, exposing his neck. Like an offer.

_I’m yours._

Victor brings a gloved hand up to Oswald’s face, the leather cool against his flushed skin as he traces his knuckles down the side of Oswald’s cheek.

A shiver grips Oswald’s whole body, a small sigh escaping his parted lips as he closes his eyes.

A pair of warm lips are now sucking on his neck, right where blood is pulsing through the vein. Oswald moans softly, breath coming quicker as Victor begins undressing him, fine hairs standing up as the cool air is hitting his exposed skin. He’s hot all over, rutting helplessly against Victor’s muscular thigh.

“Someone’s impatient tonight, eh?” Victor asks, mouth quirking into a smile. He brings his hands down to Oswald’s ass, digging his fingers into the small plump cheeks as he begins peppering kisses all over Oswald’s naked chest.

“Mhmm a-ah,” Oswald sighs, head falling back against the wall as Victor’s tongue flicks over his sensitive nipple, before sucking the small nub into his mouth.

Victor repeats the same ministrations to his other nipple, all the while kneading the round flesh of his ass.

Oswald tries to keep at least some dignity, biting down on his lip to keep himself from begging Victor to rub a finger against his hole.

“You’re still wearing too many clothes,” Victor remarks after pulling his mouth off Oswald’s nipple, now swollen and glistening with saliva.

“You, too,” Oswald replies, huffing out a breathless little laugh. He runs his hands down Victor’s broad chest, his pale fingers contrasting sharply against the pitch-black shirt.

Victor just looks at him, mouth set to a line. “No.”

Oswald’s heart drops a little. He’s been trying to get Victor to undress for their _thing_ several times, with no success.

It’s fine, though. It’s just a _thing_ , after all. Something Oswald needs, and Victor is willing to give.

So, Oswald allows Victor to undress him, until he’s standing in front of his most-skilled killing machine. Naked, trembling and completely vulnerable.

Oswald’s whole system is just buzzing with _need_.

A leather-clad hand wraps around his cock then, and Oswald can’t help but hiss and buck his hips forward in an desperate attempt for friction.

Victor gives him a few strokes, making Oswald gasp at the sensation of his cock gliding against the cool and smooth leather.

“Please.”

“What do you want, boss?”

Oswald almost has to roll his eyes. Because it’s always the same response.

“I want you to fuck me, Victor.”

The words drop from his mouth with no shame. Oswald knows who he is, knows the power he holds -- power over Victor, his men, and Gotham itself.

But he _needs_ this.

And there is no shame in needing something, every once in a while.

Victor’s lips split into a grin, hunger flaring up in his eyes - Oswald’s heart skips a beat, cock giving a little twitch.

Oswald whimpers when strong hands pick him up, lifting him up as if he weighs nothing. He holds onto Victor as he’s carried over to a couch in the corner of the room.

It’s not something Oswald would’ve ever thought would turn him on.

A few pillows land onto the ground as Victor positions Oswald like he wants him: on his stomach, and with one pillow stuffed beneath him to prop his ass up.

With anticipation pulsing through him, Oswald waits for the clicking sound of the bottle of lube being opened.

Finally.

Oswald shudders as a finger, slick with lube, circles his hole, pressing in ever so slightly. Arching his back, Oswald pushes his ass up as much as he can, moaning softly as the finger breaches his tight ring of muscle and slides inside.

The fingers of Victor’s other hand - still wearing the glove - dig into the soft flesh of Oswald’s ass, squeezing and kneading and leaving pink marks on the pale smooth skin.

After a couple of thrusts, Victor pulls his finger out and as Oswald cranes his neck to watch him, he sees him wiping him finger onto a black handkerchief.

Catching Oswald’s gaze, Victor lets the handkerchief drop to the ground and brings his hands down to the front of his pants, caressing the massive bulge in his tight pants.

“Fuck me,” Oswald whispers, his breath coming quick. The need inside of him, it’s _aching_.

Victor just cocks his head a little, eyeing Oswald intensely.

And - fuck - Oswald’s gut squeezes. But there’s also tingling warmth rushing through him. With Victor, it’s dangerous - unpredictable - and so good.

Without losing eye contact, Victor retrieves a condom wrapper from his pocket, tearing it open with his teeth. The bottle of lube is opened again and Oswald turns back into his former position, cheek pressed into a thin pillow that’s propped against the armrest of the couch.

The head of Victor’s cock is nudging against his hole now - thick and blunt and demanding. Oswald’s mouth falls open as Victor pushes in, shoving his whole length into him in one single thrust.

From then on, it’s just a string of Victor’s name falling from Oswald’s mouth, their combined moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

It’s not long before Victor is pounding into him with everything he’s got.

Sparks shoot through Oswald with every nudge against his prostate, the need to find release by touching himself almost bordering on painful.

A sharp smack lands on his ass then, combined with a particular hard thrust. Oswald cries out, every ounce of self-control long gone. “Yes- ugh- fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

Victor continues to spank him until Oswald’s ass is burning all over, the usually pale skin glowing dark pink. Grabbing Oswald roughly by the hips, Victor continues to fuck him. Deeper, faster and with no real rhythm anymore.

Oswald can’t hold it any longer, the pleasure that’s built up, too overbearing now. He sneaks a hand down under his belly, props his hips up a little and begins jerking himself off.

He comes with a soft cry, squeezing tight around Victor’s cock, who comes after a few more hard thrusts, letting out a guttural groan as his cock pulses inside Oswald.

After a few moments, Victor pulls out, causing a small whine from Oswald as his ass is left empty and throbbing.

He can hear the zipper of Victor’s pants.

Oswald lays there completely still, now with something like shame creeping up his spine. He knows it will pass, it always does.

But he _does_ crave something more every single time they’ve done this.

Suddenly Victor’s hands are back on him.

Oswald lifts his head, his glazed eyes widening.

It’s the first time he’s ever been touched afterwards.

Victor’s eyes are unreadable, yet, Oswald imagines he can almost see something soft in the other man’s gaze as the leather-gloved fingers gently run down his back.

“Have a good night, chief,” Victor says, a small smile tugging on his lips before he leans closer.

Oswald’s breath hitches in his chest.

And then, Victor presses a small kiss to his forehead.

“Can’t wait for next time,” he says, breath tickling hot against Oswald’s skin.

**Author's Note:**

> co-posted on robinllordtaylor.tumblr.com


End file.
